


the darkness of your own making

by flyingtortoisetoes



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Emergency room, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Humanstuck, Quadrant Confusion, Quadrant Vacillation, aranea is mentioned, vriska has the emotional capacity of a shoebox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingtortoisetoes/pseuds/flyingtortoisetoes
Summary: Vriska and Meenah talk about love.
Relationships: Meenah Peixes & Vriska Serket, Terezi Pyrope & Vriska Serket, Terezi Pyrope/Vriska Serket
Kudos: 15





	the darkness of your own making

**Author's Note:**

> i am by no means a great writer, or even that good of one for that matter, but i kind of (KIND OF) like this one

God, you hate hospitals.

Something about the combination of the fluorescent lights blinking and buzzing overhead, the clinical doctor’s office smell, and the bitter aftertaste of cheap waiting room coffee makes you want to hurl.

You guess that’s sort of ironic, and you can’t stop the chuckle that escapes your chapped lips when you think about how a place meant to alleviate illness actually does the opposite for you. 

A few people throw you irritated looks when you laugh, so you close your mouth, but not before sticking your tongue out and your middle fingers up. 

They shake their heads and look away, though you can still sense the judgement rolling off of them in waves. 

You sigh and slump in your seat, resting your cheek on your fist. What a bunch of wet blankets. Who said waiting rooms couldn’t be fun?

They’re so _boring_ , and you think that’s part of the reason your stomach is churning uncomfortably— _not_ because of the reason you’re even in the ER waiting room. 

You laugh again as an attempt to convince yourself, but this time it’s dry and sardonic—without any humor—and slightly louder than the first. 

“Hey, you. Annoyin gill in da corner. Yeah, you,” A girl a few seats down from you snaps, “See somefin funny tha rest of us missed?”

You snort, this time with genuine amusement, and turn to meet her glare, expecting to own this loser with a simple insult and be done with it, but you’re caught off guard by her piercing gaze and sharp, exotic features. You blink.

Her wrists are encircled in gold bangles, glinting rings sit on each of her fingers, and the magenta cat eye glasses that perch on the slope her nose are dotted with tiny crystals, but somehow all the finery doesn’t seem excessive. Instead, as much as much as it pains you to admit, it seems kind of badass. And —holy shit— is that an eyebrow piercing? 

She’s sorta cute, and you open your mouth to tell her exactly that. 

“Hey, why don’t you can it, fishface? Nobody asked you to say anything.” 

As soon as those words leave your mouth you feel your face begin to heat up, and you grimace internally. Real smooth, Vriska. Smooth like butter. 

“Ok.” Fishface arches an eyebrow and leans forward, looking as if she’s had an epiphany, before her lips curl into a wolfish grin and adding in a low voice, “And?” 

Yeah. You weren’t expecting her to clap back like that. A serious blush spreads across your face, and you resist the urge to slap your hands to your cheeks in order to cover it. You open your mouth to say something snarky in response, but can’t think of anything, so you just close it and look at her dumbly as she scoffs and looks away. 

You avert your eyes and glare at the ugly, puke-green floor while you fight to get your blush under control.

God, how long have you even _been_ here?

You check the time on your phone and stifle a groan. The time read 9:14 pm which meant you’d been waiting for a whole hour already. Also it was starting to get hot, and it wasn’t just because of the girl a few seats down. 

A long, exasperated sigh escapes your lips as the time crawls by agonizingly slow and one by one, people begin to check out. 

“Hooooooooly _shiiiiiiit.”_ The words come out mostly as a groan, the syllables dragged out in that way you know other people find obnoxious, but you don’t really care. 

“Oh for glub’s sake. What is it now?” 

You don’t even need to turn to know it was Fishface from earlier who’d spoken. 

“Fuck off.” You don’t feel the need to say much else, so you just leave it at that. 

You’re answered with a sigh and then silence. 

You wait for a minute to see if she’s going to say anything else, and when she doesn’t, you get up and march over to the desk at the front of the room. 

“Pyrope,” you say. 

The nurse sitting behind the desk blinks at you. “Sorry?” 

“Pyrope,” you say again with more force, “ _Terezi Pyrope._ Blind, annoying little shit with bony ass limbs. Looks like she could do with a couple burgers. Hair about this long. She was checked in over two hours ago.” You're gesticulating widely, and you tell yourself it’s because you’re trying to convey your frustration at having to wait, not because you’re worried about that insufferable tool Terezi. 

“I’m sorry, only direct relatives are allowed in the back. Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you... you’re going to have to take a seat, please.” The nurse looks sort of nervous and frazzled, and you can tell you won’t get very far with her, so you whirl around and storm back to your seat. 

From your chair, you scowl moodily at the door that leads to where the patients are being treated, weighing the pros and cons of just making a break for it and kicking the door in. 

The nurse catches your eye and shakes her head. 

You sigh. Probably not the best idea, then. 

“Hey. Kid.” 

You lift your head, take one look at Fishface—now standing right in front of you—and roll your eyes, making it clear you’re not in the mood to argue.

She sits down next to you anyways.

”Water you even doin here? I mean, hey, look...” She snaps her fingers under your nose when you turn away from her, trying to get your attention. “I’ve just about haddock with your lil ‘tude. You bringin da whole mood down, dog. So what’s up? You wanna talk or what?”

You look at her slowly, eyebrows knitting together in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Oh my GOD, who cares?” You try your best to sound frustrated, but you just end up sounding tired. 

“You, for one.” She points out, and falls into a short silence. “Hey, ain’t you related to Windfang what’s her Serk?“

”Windfang... what’s her Serk...?” You repeat slowly. “You mean Aranea?” When Fishface nods in confirmation, you say after a moments hesitation, “She’s my sister... are the two of you friends?”

Fishface laughs and leans back in her chair, long legs (that you definitely _aren’t_ struggling not to look at) stretching out in from of her. “Are we fronds? Shell no. I mean, I tried. I liked her an’ all. It just...” Her smile faltered and she shrugged. “Whatevs. It don’t matter. Tha name’s Meenah, by the way.” 

You look at her for a moment, studying her hardened yet elegant features and her dark eyes hidden behind a couple layers of mascara and eyeliner, and a pair of glasses. You think she looks tired.

“Vriska Serket,” you say, and the two of you shake hands.

“So tell me. What kinda craysea shit you do to end up waitin around in the ER for this long?”

You frown. “I don’t know if I’d call it crazy. Me and my... friend... were just messing around. I...” you pause, think about what you almost said just now, wince, and correct yourself. “ _She_ ,” you say, “fell into a fireplace. No biggie, though. She’ll be fine. She’s tough.” You shrug and scratch the side of your neck absently. 

Meenah watches you scratch your neck. She’s lifted one eyebrow, and you know she didn’t buy your story, but luckily she doesn’t press anything else about it. 

“Shell into a fireplace, huh? Wonder how she coulda done that.” 

“Yeah.” You bite your lip anxiously, for some reason not wanting the conversation to end. “Er, what about you? What’re you doing here? You’ve been here since before I even got here.” 

You and Meenah regard each other carefully, and as you’re studying her face, you’re sure that she’s not going to tell you anything. 

She shrugs nonchalantly and picks at her fingernails, which you now notice are cut too short. An odd thing to notice about somebody, maybe. But you don’t think about it too much. What’s more important is that you’re right, she’s not gonna tell you. Not now, at least. 

“Aranea never mentioned you,” she says suddenly, and you’re a bit taken aback. 

You stare at Meenah, not quite sure if you should be pissed or if you just shouldn’t care. 

You’re a little hurt, sure. Aranea’s your big sister and you love her, but she’s a bitch. Even you can admit that, as much as you look up to her. 

“I’m not surprised,” you tell Meenah honestly. 

She just nods and says she figured. 

You expect to fall into another awkward silence, but Meenah surprises you by asking you about Terezi. 

“The gill that fell in the fire,” she says, “tell me aboat her.”

“What do you want to know?” You ask, uncertain. 

Meenah just shrugs again, something you decide she must do often. “Well whaddaya like aboat her? What does she like aboat you? Y’all can’t be fronds for no reason.” 

What do you like about Terezi? What does _Terezi_ like about _you_? 

You’re thrown off balance a bit. As long as you and Terezi have known each other, you can’t recall a single time you’ve thought about what you _like_ about her, much less what she likes about you. 

It’s always just been the two of you, really. The Scourge Sisters, Terezi’s angry ex-boyfriend Karkat refers to you and her as. 

“I... er, well, she’s...” You‘re hit with a wave of emotion, and you cut yourself off before you can embarrass yourself. “She’s cool,” you say instead. 

“That’s all?” 

“What else is there to like about someone?”

“Serk,” Meenah says gently, “Be conchnest with yourself.” 

You bite your lip and look around. There’s no one but the two of you and that nurse, so you sigh. Fuck it. 

“I don’t know what she likes about me,” you begin, “Terezi thinks I’m a manipulative, stone cold bitch.” Your voice cracks, but you continue, “I guess I am. I know how selfish I can be, but I never mean to hurt Terezi.”

You grit your teeth and blink away the tears that have begun to prick at the corners of your eyes. “She’s a fucking idiot. She’s _so_ annoying, especially when she starts making her stupid justice metaphors. She’s loud, obnoxious, and she can’t keep a secret for shit, but... but she’s my best friend. And even though sometimes I want to just smack her upside the head, I care about her. A lot.” You shrug lamely and prod at the ground with your toe.

“Shit,” says Meenah, “Sounds to me like you’ve got yourself a classic case of the Complicated Frond Crush.” 

You look at her, kind of miffed. 

“Complicated friend crush? That’s not a classic anything,” you tell her. 

“You’re worried aboat her,” Meenah goes on, ignoring you. “Why’d you push her?” 

Your jaw drops and you flush, spluttering incredulously. “Excuse me?!” 

Why _did_ you push her? 

Stupid.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupidstupid stupid fucking spider bitch. 

You open your mouth to ask Meenah what kind of psycho would push their friend into a fire.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “To get back at her, I guess.” 

Meenah watches you expectantly, so you go on. 

“Me and her, we’re stuck in this... loop. Of revenge. It started when we were just stupid kids.” You sigh and cover your eyes with your hands. “We just can’t break the cycle.” 

“You love her?” Meenah asks, and you flinch. 

“No,” you say, too quickly. 

“Bull.” 

Your head starts to hurt so you look away. “Believe whatever you want,” you tell Meenah hotly. 

“Okay, whale I believe you’re in love with this gill, and maybe she’s in love with you too. But neither of you will ever know shit if you don’t get over yourshellf and talk to her.”

“I just like to fuck with her.” Your throat feels numb. You don’t even notice the words coming out of your mouth. You’re on autopilot. 

“Whatever you say, Serk.” 

You don’t hear her. You’re lost in your thoughts, thinking back to when you and Terezi had just barely met. 

She was twelve, and you had just turned thirteen. It was the night of your birthday party, and she was the only one you wanted to spend the night. 

The two of you had been watching some stupid legal thriller. Well, _you_ were watching it. She was just listening. 

You don’t know what movie it was, you didn’t really care. You didn’t even watch it, you just watched her, fascinated. Despite being blind, Terezi’s so... _expressive._

That was the first time you noticed the expressions she makes.

You guess that’s part of the reason you like to push her buttons so much. You love watching the way her eyes squeeze shut when you say something and she’s trying not to laugh, or the way her eyebrows will shoot up to her hairline when she’s surprised, or when you say something particularly nasty to someone and her whole face seems to contort in anger. 

It’s endearing. And yeah, you’ve thought about kissing her once or twice... or everyday. But that hardly means you’re in love with her. 

Besides, even if you were, Terezi hates your guts. And if she didn’t, then she definitely does now. 

You went too far this time, and you know it. You pushed her into a _fucking fire_. 

“I must be out of my mind,” you murmur. 

Meenah looks at you but says nothing, so you keep talking. 

“Sometimes at night I talk to the sky.” Your lips twist into an empty smile.

“I’ll climb onto my roof and lay there, and just fucking talk. I’ll look at the moon and the stars, and I’ll tell them how fucked up my life is.” 

Your smile fades. 

Your eyes are closed now and you think you hear someone say your name. It sounds a little like Terezi, but you keep your eyes shut and stay in the darkness of your own making.

Briefly you think about how this is what Terezi sees, and how that makes you kind of sad.

God, Terezi’s beautiful. You wish she knew how beautiful she is. 

You also wish she knew how much you care about her. 

“They never answer,” you whisper.

You open your eyes to see Terezi standing across the room, walking cane clutched tightly in both fists and bandages wrapped around her arms and legs. 

Your heart clenches when you catch a glimpse of waxy, burned skin.

You want to tell her you love her, and you almost do. But instead you grin and tell her she looks like shit, and it absolutely breaks your heart.

**Author's Note:**

> one of these days i’ll write a lighthearted fic.  
> but seriously, i am planning on writing a full length fic that’s not just mopey shit and me projecting onto fictional fucking characters. so that’ll happen eventually i guess


End file.
